


Ammonites and Beach Huts

by nospacesv



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beach Day, Beach huts, First Kisses, Fluff, I just want them to have a beach day let me LIVE, Lyme Regis, M/M, Picnics, Post-Apocalypse, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-10 17:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nospacesv/pseuds/nospacesv
Summary: Crowley manages to mention the picnic promise, and the two of them decide a beach day is in order





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale was bored, which is actually a very human way to say he was content. There was nothing happening in his life, no Armageddon to fight off, no angels trying to kill him, nothing. Just him, and his bookshop.

  
He walked around the shop, humming a soft tune that he had heard on his radio. Radios, he remembers, were one of his favourite inventions. He met Tesla, actually, before his lab had burnt down. It was a shame, really, watching that Italian man buy that patent and take credit for it. However, this story isn’t about Nikola Tesla, or radios.  
It’s about an angel and a demon, living out their golden years.

  
Golden years, however impractical it is to describe immortal beings, refers to the Third Age of a person’s life. There were the BC years for Aziraphale, then AD, and now what his demonic friend had coined ‘ASA’, or After Stopping Armageddon. Their third chance at life, filled with no limitations.  
Aziraphale rather liked the terms his friend, Crowley, had coined for certain items. He had such a way with words, when he wanted to at least.

* * *

On the topic of Crowley, the angel had noticed he was late to their arranged time. He didn’t mind, really, he knew his dear friend would arrive eventually, and it meant he had more time to make sure the store was in tip top shape. The weather in Soho was warm and breezy, a little too perfect for London, but he needn’t complain. He had opened the dusty windows of the shops, letting the warm breeze trickle in, taking the dust out with it.

  
He was in the back kitchen, making a cup of tea, as he heard the creaky front door open and slam shut, followed by the clicking of shoes against the wood flooring.  
“Angel?” A familiar voice called out, causing Aziraphale’s face to soften. _Crowley._

  
“Hello, my dear.” He spoke, walking back to the main room, his smile wide across his face. The demon was leaning against a post, his hands tucked in his pockets. His auburn hair was lit behind him, glowing a soft orange. Aziraphale noted it reminded him of a halo, which was rather ironic.

  
“You reorganised the shop?” The demon spoke after a moment of silence, though the question came out as more of a statement. His eyes darted around the room, looking at the shelves and stacks of books surrounding him.

  
“Ah, I do believe I did since your last visit. I was getting rather bored of the prophecy books being near the cooking, so I thought a bit of a spring clean was in order.” He sat down on his sofa, placing the mug down on the coffee table, before folding his hands in his lap, sitting quite upright.

  
“Huh. You have Pietro d'Abano’s work?” Crowley asked, glancing over at a book upon one of the shelves. His long fingers danced over the spine, dragging gently across the embossed words.

  
“Yes, such a lovely fellow, though I do believe he was one of yours.”

  
“And who’s said the damned can’t be lovely?” His words flowed like honey causing Aziraphale to get rather flustered. He sauntered over to the sofa and slouched down next to the angel; his thighs spread and his arms against the back of the sofa. He looked rather comfortable, compared to the stiff posture his angel counterpart held.  
“Suppose it would be possible. Lust, after all, is a sin as well.” Aziraphale responded, looking down at his knee. Crowley’s leg was touching it, and the subtle contact was rather distracting.

  
“Not really my division.” The demon responded, making a face that reminded Aziraphale of those children trying lemons for the first time.

  
The two of them sat together in comfortable silence, as the angel read a well-loved book and the demon played games on his phone. Since the recent near damnation of the Earth, the two of them were almost inseparable, realising they rather enjoyed each other’s company. They considered it making up for lost time. Could they even lose time? Who’s to say.

  
“Are you busy tomorrow?” Crowley asked after some time had paced. His head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as a golden streak of sun shone across his face. Aziraphale could see his eyes were closed behind his sunglasses, as he enjoyed the warmth.

  
“I don’t believe so, may I ask why?”

“Well, dunno if you remember, but I was promised a picnic back in the sixties. Thought we could plan something.” His tongue darted out and licked his lower lip, the subtle action causing the angel to fidget.

  
“You remember that night?” Aziraphale closed his book sharply, placing it down next to his half-drunk mug of now cold tea.

  
“ ‘Course I remember. Hard to forget, really.” The demon’s words came out soft, but made Aziraphale’s heart sting. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, as he had shut down Crowley’s friendship that night. He wondered if he’d ever be able to make it up to him.

  
Those words, that phrase, You go too fast for me, echoed in both of their heads, causing the air around them to get thicker with tension.

  
“You know,” The angel spoke, trying to forget the disappointed look Crowley had on his face that night, “I do know a rather pleasant spot we could go to. However, it is a bit of a drive.”

  
“Whereabouts?”

  
“Lyme Regis. It’s an awfully nice beach in Dorset.”

  
“Isn’t that the fossil beach?” The angel nodded, watching Crowley lift his head up and adjust his shirt.

  
“I happen to own a beach hut there, it’s got a marvelous pale yellow door, and looks right onto the ocean. We could have a beach day, and have a proper seaside picnic.”  
“A seaside picnic.” Crowley repeated the words, looking down at his shoes.

“Of course, if you had something else in mind for our picnic, I don’t mind.”

  
“No, no no, that’s a great idea, angel. It’s gonna be a long drive though, are you gonna be alright in the Bentley for about two hours?”

  
“Lyme Regis is nearly four hours away, my dear boy.” Aziraphale laughed, his eyes crinkling as he beamed with happiness at the joke, or what he assumed was one.

  
“Not when I’m driving,” The demon smirked at Aziraphale, and the angel was convinced he could see him wink behind his tinted shades, “So that’s that, then? I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and we’ll go to the beach?”

  
“Yes I- I do believe that’ll work,” Aziraphale watched as the demon stood up, placing his phone in his pocket, “Are you leaving already?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound hurt, but he always hated saying goodbye to his dear friend.

  
“Got demon shit to deal with. Temptations and gambling and and soul stealing.” He drawled on, not making eye contact with the angel staring sadly up at him  
“Of course, I understand. Tomorrow morning, then?”

  
“Tomorrow morning. Later Angel.” He gave Aziraphale a two-fingered salute before sauntering his way out the door, leaving the angel feeling very alone again.

* * *

Ever since the body swap, the angel had realised that their sides were, in fact, rather against them, and Crowley was right about the _our side_ situation. However, a side of two was much more lonesome when half of it was missing. An angel could go missing and Gabriel wouldn’t bat an eyelid, but when Crowley was gone, Aziraphale felt a sunken feeling deep within him. Angels were known to sense love, it was their job, really, and it seemed that whenever the demon was gone there was an absense of it. It made his heart ache and stomach sink, but it was okay. His friend would be back soon.

  
All he had to do now was wait for tomorrow morning, and soon he’d feel right again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had so much fun writing this chapter. i know this one was a bit short, call it a prologue?? i guess?? anyway yeah i lov my dumb idiot loser boys


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning, the angel was greeted by a lush, golden hue sunrise and a demon wearing shorts, two rather rare sights he’d never grow weary of. He himself was still dressed in his usual tartan suit, which Crowley raised an eyebrow at.

“The beach is no place for bowties, Angel.” Aziraphale remembers him telling him during the drive, though he found it hard to speak as he held on for dear life. Crowley was, and forgive the ironicy, a speed demon, which made the poor angel’s anxiety spike through the roof. 

Angel found himself fiddling with the knobs on the radio system, turning the volume up as a jiggity jig started playing and a familiar voice began to sing.

_Seaside whenever you stroll along with me_

_I'm merely contemplating what you feel inside_

_Meanwhile I ask you to be my Clementine_

_You say you will if you could but you can't_

_I love you madly_

_Let my imagination run away with you gladly_

_A brand new angle highly commendable_

_Seaside rendezvous_

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard this song before.” Angel spoke, glancing over at the demon, whose knuckles were turning white as he gripped the wheel with such aggression.

“It’s a bit shit, honestly. Gotta listen to the sappy ones to get to the good ones.” He responded, which only resulted in the music getting louder. The lyrics were about someone falling in love at the beach, which caused the atmosphere around the two of them to get rather thick.

The drive was filled with hardly any conversation, as Aziraphale watched the speeding scenery out the windows and listened to the music playing. As they arrived, the angel noted the weather had begun to turn sour. Frowning, he opened the car door to the Bentley and stretched his legs, picnic basket in hand. He looked over at the demon tap his hand gently on top of his car as he shut the door. 

“You might need to lead the way.” He spoke from behind the angel, the sudden sound startling Aziraphale slightly.

“Right, of course. Follow me, my dear.” And with a click of his heels, he began walking to his beach hut.

The beach hut, was in layman's terms, a glorified box with a door. As the angel swung the door open, however, it seemed much more like a home than a hut. It had its own kitchen, with a few shelves and even a working stove. There was a table crammed near the doors, that thankfully swung outward rather than in, and even a bed (which was more of a cot) in the back. It felt homey, and though the shelves were littered with books and random odds and bobs, there seemed to be ample space.

“This is yours?” Crowley spoke, a frown on his face as he dipped his head in, having a look around. He dragged his fingers across the dusty shelves, eyeing the books. 

“Yes, though I may be guilty of miracling a few things in here. I’m not too sure an oven would work this close to the seaside.” He let out a little chuckle, placing the picnic basket on the small table.

“We’re immortal beings I think we’re allowed a hob near the sea,” The demon grumbled, kicking his shoes off and placing them in the back corner, “What’s not allowed is a three piece suit. There’s actually a five mile radius ban for suits at the ocean, can’t believe you’re breaking the law.”

“And why’s that?” The angel looked rather offended, running his hand over his waistcoat. He had grown rather attached to the suit he wears, and the thought of wearing anything else seemed utterly pointless. 

“Really, angel? You’re going to wade in the water with beige coloured slacks on? Your jacket can and will get ruined. I mean, look at me,” The demon gestured to what he was wearing, clad in black swim trunks and a dark red vest, “Not exactly wearing my shoe strings, am I?”

“But I don’t wear anything else, it’d be highly out of character. People might laugh at me.” The angel grumbled in response, looking down at his feet. 

“I promise you they will laugh more if you walk out there in a suit.” Crowley shrugged, as the angel let out a huff before snapping his fingers, appearing in a navy blue striped bathing suit, the kind that were popular in the 1900s.

“You are aware we’re in the twenty first century, right, angel?” The demon sneered, looking the angel up and down.

“I think I look rather stylish, thank you very much,” He snapped his fingers once again, and a pair of sunglasses appeared on the top of his head, “Shall we?” 

“Right, yeah.” The demon rambled, picking up the umbrella and folded blanket off the edge of the cot and followed Aziraphale outside and onto the sand. The two of them found a rather secluded spot, and Crowley fought against the wind to place the blanket down on the floor. With a frustrated huff, he waggled his fingers and it was miraculously flush against the floor, not moving. The umbrella also was perched at a perfect angle, offering them ample shade, though the sun rarely peeked through the grey clouds that loomed above them.

Aziraphale took a seat on the right, and Crowley on the left, respectively. The angel opened up the wicker basket, taking out sandwiches and packets of crisps, alongside a bottle of wine. He handed the bottle with a bottle opener to the demon with a small smile

“Would you mind?” The angel asked, and the demon nodded, opening the bottle with a _pop!_ Aziraphale watched the red liquid trickle into the two glasses, and took his glass in his hand with a nod. He took a sip, a small smile on his face. The angel took a small cucumber sandwich, and offered the other half to Crowley. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” The demon grumbled, taking a rather big gulp of wine, nearly draining the glass in one swig.

“A picnic by definition is when you eat a packed meal outdoors, and if only one of us is eating, it’s hardly a picnic.” The angel retorted, earning him a scoff from Crowley.

“Ok, Mr. Merriam-Webster,” He grumbled over his wine glass, and reluctantly picked up the other half, taking a small bite. He looked down at the sandwich he was eating, and shrugged a bit, “I’ve eaten worse.”

“We also have some crisps if you’d prefer, and I do believe I packed some strawberries as well,” The angel spoke, his facial expression soft, “I remember you mentioning that you liked them on one of our dates to the Ritz. You rather enjoyed those scones with clotted cream, as well.”

“Dates?” Thee demon raised an eyebrow, bewildered at what had been said to him.

“ _Tea time with the enemy_ doesn’t roll off the tongue as nicely as _date_ , does it?” The angel spoke, sipping his wine, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass around, watching a soft whirlpool form.

“Does that mean this is a date?” There was a twinge of hope in the demon’s voice, his facial expression softening as he watched the angel in front of him shift slightly.

“If you’d like it to be, yes.” Angel responded coolly, biting the edge of his inner lip to suppress a rather large grin.

“Great. We’re on a date, then.” Crowley spoke, and went back to talking about the fish in the deep oceans, and how we’d never know what was truly out there. The fright enthused him on, as the angel listened with intent.

Aziraphale sat upright, eating his sandwiches and snacks, listening contently to a over-exaggerative Crowley going on tangents, his limbs being thrown around like a sack of potatoes with his gestures. 

“More wine?” The angel asked as Crowley took a pause, adjusting his posture with a wiggle. The demon nodded, holding his glass out as Aziraphale topped them both up with a faint grin.

“Honestly, angel, I don’t know how you do it.” Crowley said after draining his wine glass once again.

“I’m not too sure I follow, my dear.” He responded, looking over his own dark shades to look at the demon.

“You’re always so…” His hands waved around as he looked for the word “Chirpy. I’ve been talking about giant squids and humongous monsters that can and will kill us all, and you’re right as rain, smiling like you… you… well, like you’re chirpy!” Another _great_ analogy from Crowley, mind you. 

“Is that a bad thing?” The angel furrowed his brow, doing his best to see Crowley’s eyes behind his dark shades, “We saved the world, my dear boy, I think I’m allowed to be… chirpy.”

“Don’t you get bored of being so happy?”

“Of course not, why would I get tired of it?” The angel cocked his head to the side, watching Crowley shrug his shoulders aggressively. The demon stood up rather abruptly, nearly hitting his head on the umbrella’s brim. 

“Did I upset you?” The angel spoke, his voice small as he looked up at the taller man in front of him.

“Nah, don’t think you could upset me if you tried.” Crowley spoke, though they both knew that was a lie, “I wanna go see how cold the water is, care to join me?” The demon continued, holding his hand out.

The angel took his hand and was hoisted to his feet, and felt sad, almost, as Crowley let go of it. They began to walk together to the water, the sound of gulls above them filling their ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its a DATE date


	3. Chapter 3

The angel took his hand and was hoisted to his feet, and felt sad, almost, as Crowley let go of it. They began to walk together to the water, the sound of gulls above them filling their ears.

“I do hope it’s not too chilly.” Aziraphale chirped, breaking the silence between them as they walked over to the sea. The angel found himself letting out a soft gasp as he felt the cold water hit his feet. 

“It’s not chilly,” Crowley spoke, wading into the water, the waves hitting the middle of his shin. He waved his hand across his chest, and his shirt disappeared, appearing next to their picnic basket, “It’s  _ fucking _ freezing.” 

Aziraphale laughed, joining him. The angel found himself rather distracted at Crowley’s pale chest, glancing at his hip bones and watching his chest expand and deflate with every fake breath. His daydream was cut short as the demon kicked his leg at him, splashing the shorter man with the cold water.

“You vile, heinous serpent!” Aziraphale gasped, exasperated as he splashed him right back, earning him a cackle from his demon counterpart.

“Watch it, you glorified cherub!” Crowley hissed in response, wading deeper into the sea to get away from splashes, the angel following behind him. They were filled with laughter and smiles as they splashed each other.

“I haven’t had this much fun since-” The angel spoke, before getting cut off by a rather big wave, knocking his footing over and falling over. When he resurfaced, his face bright red with embarrassment, he saw Crowley keeled over with laughter, howling.

“You should’ve seen your face as you tripped!” The demon spat out, straightening his back, his body still shaking with laughter. That was, until Aziraphale kicked his leg out, resulting in the demon falling down and joining him in the water, the two of them floating around on their knees. 

They managed to both stand up, after the giggles had calmed down, and Aziraphale found himself looking directly into Crowley’s eyes. The amber irises of the serpent’s eyes glowed, making the angel’s stomach flip.

“My dear boy, I do believe your sunglasses have fallen off.” The angel spoke, trying to act calm, as the demon swung around, looking down in the water.

“Well…” Crowley spoke, his brow furrowed, “Shit.”

“Allow me.” Aziraphale responded, snapping his fingers and holding out the pair of sunglasses, still damp, but miraculously not ruined. The demon took the sunglasses and placed them on, giving the angel a nod. 

“Cheers.” Crowley grumbled in response, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“My pleasure.” The angel beamed, running a hand through his wet hair, hoping to fix the curls that were sticking to his forehead.

“You’ve been doing all the miracles lately, let me do the next one.” The demon muttered, looking down at the water. He bent over, running his hands across the sand, feeling around to see if he could find anything. No luck.

“What on Earth are you doing down there?” The angel asked, watching him wade his hands around in the water, before pulling something up, squinting at it.

“We’re at the number one fossil landmine in England, I’m looking for bones.” His face was frowning before he placed it in the pocket of his swim trunks. 

“Did you find something?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes lighting up with hope. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” The demon grinned slyly at him, hunching over once again to feel around the sand. With a huff, Aziraphale joined him, gliding his hands around.

“Aha!” The angel exclaimed, as his hand grazed over something and yanked it up, hoping to find a shell, but rather found a hand. Crowley’s hand, to be exact. Unfortunately, there were no disembodied hands in the ocean for the angel to grab. 

“You sure that’s a shell?” The demon spoke, trying to remain calm as his cheeks flushed at the contact.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry!” The angel gasped, not letting go of the hand; letting out a soft chuckle, “I must’ve been too overzealous in finding something.”

“Can I have my hand back?” Crowley asked, staring down at Aziraphale holding onto it. The warmth of the angel’s hands trickled up his arm and filled his very core, almost burning him with desire. 

“Of course Crowley, sorry about that,” Aziraphale let go of his grasp gently, missing the feel of the demon’s fingers held in his palm, “You know, for a demon, you do have rather soft hands.”

“What were you expecting, scaly rough nubs for fingers? That’s a bit racist, Angel.” The demon sneered, looking down at his hands, turning them over to look at the palms. He gave his fingers a little wiggle, earning a scoff from a rather hurt Aziraphale.

“That’s hardly the point, my dear boy. I was trying to compliment you.” The angel mumbled, wading away from Crowley, his fingers gliding against the water. 

“Come on, don’t play hurt, we’re  _ both _ joking here,” The demon called out, following behind him, grabbing onto his wrist, “Let’s go back to the blanket.” 

“This date is an absolute disaster,” Aziraphale muttered, looking down at the hand Crowley was holding onto, “I’ll go back if you keep ahold of me.” 

“Pardon?” 

“I’m quite sure you heard me, Crowley dearest.” Aziraphale turned around, looking Crowley in the eye, “Hold my hand on the way back?”

“Why would I do that? I’m a demon, we don’t do small gestures of affection.” The demon scoffed, lacing his fingers between Aziraphale’s, before leading them back to shore.

“I thought we came to the conclusion this was a date. Do people not hold hands on dates? I saw many a couple at St. James’ Park holding hands, I’d like to do the same with you.” The angel cocked his head to the side, giving the demon’s hand a slight squeeze.

“Yeah sure, whatever.” Crowley grumbled, rubbing his thumb over Aziraphale’s. He’d never realised that contact with the angel could have been so easy, all it took was a beach trip and twenty minutes, if that, in the water. 

When they got to their towel, Crowley reluctantly let go of the angel’s hand, plopping down and pouring them two fresh glasses of wine. He handed a glass to Aziraphale, letting his fingertips graze against the angel’s hand. The angel sat down with a plop, sitting up straight as a board, sipping his wine. 

Crowley kicked his legs out in front of him, tilting his head back. He was enjoying the warmth that was surfacing again, the cold brittle English weather blowing away like a soft breeze through the leaves. He cocked his head over, looking over at Aziraphale looking at him.

“What?” The demon spoke, his face plastered with a frown.

“Oh, oh it’s nothing.” Aziraphale took a sip of his wine, glancing back at the waves.

“Spit it out Angel, I haven’t got all day.” Crowley lulled his head back once again, staring at the umbrella fixated above them.

“Even though we’ve known each other for six thousand years,” The angel spoke, draining the last of his wine, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol buzzing inside him, “It sure did take a while for us to finally go on a proper date, didn’t it?” 

“How do you mean?” The demon sat up straight, an eyebrow raised, as he looked over at Aziraphale twiddling his thumbs.

“When I mentioned this picnic back in the sixties, I meant it as what we’ve made it: a date. The two of us, enjoying each other’s company in a romantic way. Nothing too fast, nothing… intense. With lust or- or with greed, I suppose. But it took you so long to bring it up, I assumed you forgot.”

“You told me I went too fast. Kinda implies you set the speed.” Crowley grumbled, gulping down his own wine, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his body, giving him a rush of courage. 

“I was waiting for you and you were waiting for me,” The angel let out a sigh, which sounded more like a breathy chuckle “I do suppose our interactions have been one big misunderstanding.”

“Seems that way. The whole ‘being on different sides’ thing didn’t help our case, either.” The demon grumbled, fishing out a strawberry from the picnic basket, popping it into his mouth.

“You put it best. We’re on our own side now.” 

“Our own side.” The demon repeated, staring back up at the umbrella as he let out a sigh. They sat there, listening to the waves crash against the sand, and all felt right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they Should Kiss in the next one if everything goes according to plan im having trouble splitting my work up dfdsljdssd


End file.
